


Tempestuous

by Queerasil



Category: The Tempest - Shakespeare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Demons, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Magic, Magical Realism, Non-binary character, Witchcraft, in which basically prospera is a paranormal detective witch and miri is their assistant, inspired by supernatural sherlock and x files, miranda and prospero aren't related and their genders are changed, this is actually pretty good, this is the au you never thought would happen, this is the tempest detective au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 19:58:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3703591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queerasil/pseuds/Queerasil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(The AU you never thought would happen.)<br/>In which Miranda becomes the assistant to Prospera, a witch and (part-time) paranormal detective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Bad Penny

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really know how this happened.  
> I have had this idea for so freaking long. The Tempest is a play I've wanted to adapt for a while, because I'm not overly-fond of the original. I had this idea for a story with a witch's assistant and their wild adventures investigating the magical and paranormal. After two all-nighters and three cups of coffee, this was born.  
> Each chapter will be a different "episode" (story) about the duo. There'll be a new episode about every week.  
> I really enjoy writing this and I hope you enjoy reading it as well.  
> Follow me at elsinore-snores.tumblr.com for more Willy Shake 'n' Bakes!

I've had a pretty interesting day.

I was on my way home from bringing flowers to my girlfriend, and it was night and I had to take the subway. There was a storm on, but it was more than your usual storm. It rolled in from clear skies suddenly, and in the first few minutes, the streets were overflowing with water and the floodgates of heaven unleashed their wrath upon our poor city.

Luckily, I managed to catch the subway in time. There were only about six people other than myself, but my anti-social nature made me retreat to a car of my own. I put my headphones in and hunkered down for what was about a forty-five minute ride home. I was relaxing, for once in far too long, and I stared out the window as the subway tunnel passed by in a blur of grime and concrete.

You can imagine my surprise when the the subway came to a violently abrupt stop.

I wasn't paying attention, so of course the momentum knocked me off my seat and sent me headfirst into a pole.

I was unconscious (I don't know for how long) but when I came around I found a large bump on my head and that I was on the floor of a different train car with the rest of the passengers sitting around me. I took it from the silent tension that permeated the room that something went wrong.

I looked out the window and saw that the subway car was surrounded by what must have been more than a few feet of water.

The shocked silence was broken when the lights flickered on and off and a man started to scream.

"Calm down! Calm down!" a woman with a handkerchief yelled, but she didn't sound very calm.

I couldn't help being worried as well. It's like the lights were taunting us, flaunting the fact they could do out and plunge us into interminable darkness at any second.

It was in between flickers that I swore I saw someone - or rather, something - standing in the doorway. I could swear a large, solid black figure was fading in and out with the lights. I could see it, if only for a split-second, just as the lights went off.

The lights stopped flickering and I sighed with relief. At least the lights were on, for now.

The panicked man started yelling back at the handkerchief woman, and a man with a toupee started yelling about how he was about to be late home from work, while a punk kid paced the aisles nervously with their headphones tightly secured around their ears. An older man wasn't moving. He was petrified, his eyes wide with fear and alarm as he stared at his reflection in the glass across the aisle.

The chaos was unbearable, until a calm voice spoke from the back of the compartment.

"Stop. Fighting." she ordered, and on command everyone just stopped. I'd never noticed this woman before, but I was grateful she was there to restore balance to the room. She got up slowly from her seat at the back and walked towards the group. Something about her was both calming and unnerving. The way she trotted around the carriage reminded me of a guard dog, and her eyes reminded me of a bird of prey.

I froze when she looked at me.

"Hey, you." She nodded at me and took out her own phone. "We're going to get some light, just in case it goes off. Come on."

She spun on her heel and walked away, like she expected me to just follow her with no questions asked. I really didn't have a choice, so I left my phone with the punk kid, stood up shakily, and walked after her.

By the time I got to the next compartment, she had already started telling a story about something, but for the life of me I can't remember what, just that I was captivated by whatever it was she was saying. It was more than a distraction, like she was hypnotizing me.

I was able to snap myself out of the daze I was in. "What? What the fuck? Who even are you?"

"Rude," she scoffed, then turned back to looking in a cupboard for what must have been a flashlight. "Where do they keep the lights?"

"And I'm being rude?" I gawked at her, then sighed. "The first car with the driver, probably."

"Hmm… Want to go on an adventure?"

"Eh…" I frowned. I wanted to lie down. "Not really."

"Too bad, you're the only person here I can stand. Come on!" And then she was off again, and I had to run to catch up with her. She started talking again, and I tried desperately to focus on whatever it was she was saying. Something about lions, I think?

"Moral of the story is, no cat is ever too big to play with. That brings me to my next -"

I covered my ears. "Stop! Stop! Please! Tell me honestly, what am I doing here?"

Her flippancy dissolved in an instant. She stepped towards me, her face serious and her voice solemn. "I need your help. There is a murderer on this train. I've narrowed it down to one of the other five people, and now I need you to help me."

"How…" My brain did a double-take. Murderer? "How do you know it's not me?"

"Simple: If you were a murderer, I'd be dead already."

"Of course…" I silently chastised myself for being so stupid. "Are the police involved?"

"It… isn't that kind of killer..." She was being purposely vague, I could tell.

I almost laughed. What a time to be vague. "What other kind of killers are there?"

She smiled, like she was about to tell a joke. "Do you believe in demons?"

Oh. My. God. What. The. Fuck. "No…"

"You should." I wouldn't have believed her, but there was something in her eyes, something that spoke to me deeper than words. There was this deep remembrance in her eyes, and something told me she'd seen this all before.

"Okay… I believe you. What do we do?"

"Exorcise the train compartment. All the suspects are together, so it shouldn't be too hard. And the tempest buys us a few hours. With any luck -"

"Wait, wait, wait. Too much information, not enough explanation. How are we going to exorcise them?"  
"Magic, duh."

"Oh, of course," I said sarcastically. "I was thinking of something more specific. Uh, Are you a… a witch, then?"

She winked and smirked. I took the hint.

"Cool!" I had so many questions, but of course I picked the dumbest one first. "Do you, urm, worship Satan?"

"Only on off days."

I smiled. This was a lot to take in, but I'd process it all later. "How do we exorcise them?"

"There's a Latin incantation." Oh, of course it's in Latin. "Cliched, I know, but it does the trick. I need you to finish it in case I can't."

I didn't like what she was implying. "You trust me?"

"Not particularly, but I don't have much choice." At least she was being honest. "Now, every demon has a different effect on people. Demons can also jump from person to person, but we'll worry about that later. This demon's called Caliban, and it makes people see their worst fears. Are you okay with that?"

I nodded, but I won't deny that my stomach lurched just thinking about my worst fear.

"Good, I like you already. Next we have to get each of the people alone to exorcise them separately, but we have to do it without being suspicious. And we can't let the lights go out."

"Why?"

Her facial expression said more than words ever could.

"Oh crap," I whispered.

"Exactly. Are you -"

She was cut off by a piercing scream from the other compartment.

We ran to the other compartment, and when we got there we found the punk kid and mustache and toupee guys missing; the woman with the handkerchief cowering in fear in the corner, and the older man who'd been staring at his reflection before lying on the ground.

I checked the older man's pulse; it was weak but there. The woman with the handkerchief was hysterical until my strange witch friend snapped her fingers and the woman instantly calmed down enough to speak. She told us the older man had started screaming at his own reflection, and had become increasingly hostile until he apparently had a heart attack. He then started convulsing at the same time as the mustache guy. The punk kid and toupee guy ran away scared and the mustache guy became panicked and disoriented and jumped out the train door into the water.

The witch turned to the handkerchief woman. "I'm sorry, but it'll be easier for everyone if you're unconscious." She then snapped her fingers and the woman went out like a light.

Despite everything, I was having a great time. "You've got to show me that trick."

"'Course." The witch winked. "It won't possess either of them now, not when the man's so ill and the woman so annoying. The guy with the mustache is possessed and we're going to look for them, come on."

This was all happening way, way too fast for me. "I suppose this is a bad time to mention I'm a coward?"

"Oh, come on!" She sighed. "Fine. Go get the other guy and the kid. Take this," she produced a salt shaker from one of her many coat pockets and threw it at me. "and this," she handed me a slip of paper. "That's the exorcism, just in case. The pronunciation is very important. Get one word wrong and you have to start over."

"Okay, yeah, okay." I was nodding, even though I wanted to shake my head. This was too much too fast.

The witch looked concerned. "Are you going to be okay?"

I honestly had no idea, but I was terrified.

"Alright." The witch coughed awkwardly and gave me a rusty penny from her pocket. "This is a protection charm."

I just stared at it. "This is a penny."

"It's both. It absorbs evil. Keep it with you and you'll be safe, I promise."

I smiled. What a ridiculously cute and clever concept. That made me feel a little better. "Thanks. What about you?"

She shrugged. "I'll be fine. Good luck." She winked again. I had a feeling that when she said good luck it wasn't just a kind remark, it was a command for the universe to follow.

We split up. She jumped out of the train door and into the water that flooded the tracks. She was up to her neck in it, but she was able to wade over to the sides where it was shallower and walk freely. I went forward, checking each compartment before us. I checked every bathroom, under every seat, and above in every rack. Nothing.

I was in the second to last compartment when I heard a loud bang home from inside a storage closet. I took a slow step closer. The lights flickered. I stepped closer again. Another bang. I froze, my hand on the doorknob. I took a deep breath and opened the door.

The mustache guy was curled up in the corner, scratching frantically at his arms and mumbling something about spiders. He was kicking and crying and screaming. I threw some salt at him, but nothing happened. He wasn't possessed, just panicking. I shut the door and barricaded it closed with a chair.

That left the punk kid and the other guy, and something told me it wasn't the toupee guy.

There was one carriage left. He had to be in there. I opened the door carefully. Sure enough, the punk was sitting in the front seat with is head buried in his hands, shaking.

"Caliban?" I asked. The kid looked at me, his eyes black. I clutched the exorcism paper in one hand and the salt shaker in the other, and I felt the weight of the penny in my pocket.

"Get away from me!" he screamed. He backed away into the bad window. The way he looked at me, I'll never forget. Like I was going to strangle him right then and there.

I knew I had to act quick. I blocked the edit and threw onto the floor so he couldn't move, and I threw salt at him as I spoke the words:

"Hey adepto inferno de hoc non est a Deo betula arbore Damnare piece of animal meiere stercore off off aut diss tibi populi coluere dang daemonium iustus sum faciens hoc usque reliquum est, esse non magia questions interrogare aureos latrina sedere vos."

He collapsed to the ground, convulsing. Something came over me, and soon I was shaking too. I could barely stand, I had to lean on the ground for support. I dropped the salt shaker, it burned my fingers to touch it. I didn't realize it then, but I was possessed.

It's odd to describe exactly how it felt. Physically, nothing had changed. Mentally, my mind as oddly focused and clear. Emotionally, I felt fine.

Until I saw her. My girlfriend.

She just stared at me. Her cold, lifeless, dead eyes that seemed to look right through me. She was pale, pure white. Her blue dress was stained with brown, crusting blood, and dirt stained under her nails.

She looked the same as she had the day they buried her.

I was frozen in shock. The light went through her like she was paper. She wasn't there, she couldn't be there. But still she was.

I tried to grab her, but my hand passed through her.

I tried to calm my breathing, tried to stop my heart racing, tried to stop the world from spinning around me, but it was useless. Sheer panic gripped me and tears welled up in my eyes.

Only then did I look down at the ground and see the crumpled bouquet of lilies on the floor.

'It was her favorite flower,' I thought as I broke down crying. I still took them to her every day.

Suddenly someone hugged me. I collapsed into their arms. The familiar voice of the witch whispered in my ear, "Hey adepto inferno de hoc non est a Deo betula arbore Damnare piece of animal meiere stercore off off aut diss tibi populi coluere dang daemonium iustus sum faciens hoc usque reliquum est, esse non magia questions interrogare aureos latrina sedere vos."

I felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from my mind. I looked up from whoever's shoulder I had buried my face in to see my girlfriend was gone.

The witch said held up the penny, "Got it." She smiled.

I didn't take the subway again for about a week after that. When I finally did, it was to visit my girlfriend's grave one last time. I said my peace and left it at that. I was going to move on.

I was walking back when I saw the witch again. She explained to me that she'd trapped the demon in the penny, and that she was holding it for safekeeping.

Somehow, I still couldn't really believe what had happen.

"Hell is empty, and all the devils are here," she remarked. "I don't think I ever got your name?"

"You didn't. It's Miri. Yours?"

"Prospera." She shook my hand.

A weird name for a weird person. I smiled at the thought of someone so weird having a normal name.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" she asked suddenly.

"Same thing I do every day, I suppose. Get up, go to work, go to sleep." I didn't change much. Every day since my girlfriend died had been the same.

"How'd you like to change that?"

I was used to my routine, but not fond of it. Honestly, I was ready for a change. "What do you mean?"

"Any chance you'd want to come work for me?"

I almost laughed. "What kind of work do you do?"

She smirked. "The best kind." There she was, being purposely vague again. She rolled her eyes. "You can be my assistant. I've got a shop downtown where I see magical stuff. Occasionally, I investigate certain unusual and interesting -"

"You're like a paranormal detective? Like the X-Files?"

"Sort of. Demons are just the beginning. There's so much more out there to explore."

"Demons are enough for me, thanks…" But then I thought about it. Why couldn't I do something like that? It would be so interesting, so new, so exciting and challenging and fun. When I thought about it, there wasn't anything else I'd rather do. "Yes."

"Great!" Prospera gave me a sleek red card with the shop's address printed in it in silver. "Come by tomorrow morning. And bring something fireproof!" She smiled. I couldn't tell if she was joking or not, but I dearly hoped she was.

So I took this job with this very odd, very dangerous, very clever woman who I knew absolutely nothing about. I start work tomorrow, and I have no idea what I'm in for. But whatever it is, I'm prepared. I'm carrying a penny in my pocket, just in case I ever need it.


	2. Dollpleganger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is funnier than the last chapter. It's hilarious, actually.

So I got out of the closet. Then I almost died. This is what happened in between.

I kicked the closet open. Prospera still wasn't there, so I decided to go look for Me myself.

Let me tell you, running around NYC asking people if they're seen you is not something I ever imagined myself doing. Half the people think I'm having some bizarre, Kafkaesque existential crisis and the other half think I'm joking. There are only so many times I can say "Have you seen Me?" before even I start to think I'm dreaming or something.

After about an hour of searching, I found myself sightseeing in Central Park.

"You're not going to like being myself, I'm a bitch," I remarked, and my clone turned it's head.

Naturally, I thought, 'Oh my god, if that what I look like?'

"You're really high-maintenance," (clone) Me said. "Why is your hair so –"

And then (real) me punched (fake) me right in my high-maintenance little face.

I was (quite literally) fighting myself.

"You can't be me! There's only one me and it's me!" (real) me said. I had myself in a choke-hold.

(Fake) Me broke free and ran away. (Real) me wasn't having none of that shit, and I chased after myself.

Yep, I chased after myself right into oncoming traffic.

And that's why I'm sitting in the back room of the store right now with a broken leg, sitting and listening to Prospera lecture me about why I should always, always listen to her.

"What is It… What am I going to do now?" I asked, just to get her to stop talking.

Prospera smirked. "Live your life, I imagine."

I'm still out there, somewhere, living my life. If you're out there, other me, I've got a little message for you: It's not easy being me. You're allergic to strawberries, and someday when you go to Jamba Juice, it's going to bite you in the ass. Good luck ordering off that menu, bitch.

—

Three days on the job and I've already almost gotten myself killed. This is shaping up to be the best job ever, isn't it?

**Author's Note:**

> Wooh! That was fun, huh? My long-term love of shows like Bones, X-Files, Sherlock, and Supernatural inspired this. I am very, very excited about the next episode and I hope you are as well.


End file.
